


When Tomorrow Never Comes

by Doseux



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Bittersweet, Dark, Florid prose, Light-Hearted, Relationshipping, Romanticism, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 19:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doseux/pseuds/Doseux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An average day for a little-known family living on the outskirts of Ponyville, until a trip to the store takes a turn for the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Tomorrow Never Comes

A modest cottage sat at the outskirts of Ponyville, uninterrupted by the general oddities of everyday life. A cool blue paint was on the verge of peeling from its shutters, while eggshell green had the general appearance of being just recently applied to the entirety of the structure. A bright red-orange door stood prominently between two windows set in the wall six feet from the edge of an open porch, a smaller window set in the door itself. All the small railings and minute decorations where painted a pleasant shade of off-white.

Architecturally it was not nearly the marvel the general style in Ponyville portrayed to be the norm. A second story held a balcony with another bright red-orange door—a duplicate of its brother below—set between two tall windows, open now to the uplifting summer breezes. A chimney, a cobblestone erection, sat wallowing in the disuse warm weathers always bring it. The spangled earth tones in the roof’s shingles were much too stunning to be accidental. However, it’s impossible to tell how such an affect could have been planned.

Patches of evergreens and flower beds clung to the exterior walls. The majority of the wooded area remained in its proper place, well away from the home where they could do no damage. Meadow was the main consumer of attention when the eye was looking at neither the house nor the wood. Prairie grasses and spectrum spanning wildflowers dotted the land in abundance. Clouds dangled in the air as if brushed there in whimsical abandon by a lazy artist. The buffer of wind or weather made this scene a living canvas. A trip up the home’s wooden steps was a trip into quaint incarnate.

Two sisters, one a dish-water grey the other an unobtrusive tint of pink, placed there like an afterthought, galloped gaily in the meadow. Both unicorns, they ventured around their allotment of mystical lands. The younger sister, Dinky, concocted fanciful tales with enthusiastic movements and expressions, grafting herself and her sister into the innumerable cast with ease. The elder sister, Sparkler, was plainly at the age where most ponies become mortified at such frivolous playtime. She was also plainly under no obligations to cease; she trotted around just as engaged as the younger, even occasionally using magic to bring a storyline to fruition through environmental manipulations. During late afternoon, when they had slain no less than seventeen vicious monsters—not to mention those characters Dinky felt unfit for the title—and held the hearts of six princes, two Ducal heirs and a myriad other suitors who wished dearly for their immediate engagement, the red-orange door opened. A voice from the upper balcony called them back inside, at first sweet and slightly mellow, then several degrees harsher when the unicorns showed their obvious reluctance. At the latter they trotted, galloped actually, to the front door.

Once inside they circumnavigated the hearth and settled in the dining nook. Dinky’s dull yellow mane peeked above the tiny table. Sparkler helped her up onto a makeshift column of large tomes and infrequently acquired Manehattan papers. A pegasus mare with the same dish-water grey coat and yellow mane as Dinky glided, albeit a little clumsily, down the stairs and joined her daughters. Ditzy Hooves, so youthful she appeared not a day older than her own daughter Sparkler, disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before reappearing with a menagerie of plates balanced in impossible ways. 

Of course, she was unable to continue the action and tumbled spectacularly to the floor. The dishes and plates, suspended in light pink aura, glided to the table where their barer could not. The tradition solicited two warm-hearted giggles, and even Ditzy couldn’t help but have a little laugh. She picked herself up and with a light flutter of her wings had landed in her spot across from Sparkler and Dinky. The head of the table was left noticeably vacant.

During the meal Sparkler couldn’t help but notice her mother’s gaze drifting to the empty chair, an empty expression spreading over her face. When that happened Sparkler would say something light and innocent, or, if they were lucky, Dinky would. Dinky could always make them laugh. After that they enjoyed each other’s company dearly, only interrupting to comment on the deliciousness or general scrumptiousness of the meal.

And then it was time for bed. That didn’t matter to Sparkler, so long as she was able to go to bed with a smile on her face. She and Dinky would go up the stairs. They would step into their room. Dinky would jump up onto the bottom bunk, she had passed that age she needed help to do so. Sparkler, with difficulty, would heave herself onto the top, make herself as comfortable as possible. Maybe he would come home tomorrow night. 

She dreamt happily, mind fraught with Dinky’s tales and all the adventure that had been accomplished that day. She dreamt of a brown stallion holding Mom close again, his soft stare. She would dream of crying out, dashing and embraces. Then there was that thought she would never think: tomorrow never seems to come, now does it?

  
  


Ditzy rose early each morning. She was up before her daughters, and even up before the singing of birds filled the morning air. It was nice to be able to drift out of her room, down the stairs and into the living room. She busied herself with little things, especially preparing the fillies’ breakfast; that was one thing very important to her. She was well into the preparations when the clop of hooves deadened by carpet reached her ears. A sleepy Sparkler and a tipsy Dinky quivered at the base of the steps, looking at her eagerly. They always tried to wake like their mother, but never seem to have enough energy in the morning. The smells of frying foods and baked goods were always good motivators, though.

Then it was that day of the week again. The pantry was getting low. She smiled apologetically to her girls. Her saddlebags levitated to her sides, Ditzy gave Sparkler an appreciative glance. Dinky wanted to go to town today too, she was more than happy to oblige, and Sparkler’s aura had deposited its commander’s sister into a saddlebag. Ditzy always liked it when Dinky or Sparkler went with her to town.

With Dinky secured, a curt expression of love, and customary goodbye Ditzy drifted out the door, soared into the air. Sparkler watched her mother silhouetted against the clouds. Unlike on the ground, where she was clumsy and generally a walking pratfall, in the air she was graceful. Sparkler didn’t even fret when Ditzy would plummet from above the clouds; no matter how far she fell a sharp bank rectified everything.

She was in her element, so to speak. She stopped and pranced atop a cloud. The sun was brighter and warmer above the clouds. Since it was still early morning it had just taken a peek past the horizon. With a small chuckle she leapt off the cloud and took the last few miles to Ponyville with cartwheels and gentle spinning, she didn’t want to upset Dinky too much, though she knew she enjoyed a good ride.

All too quickly they had arrived. This was the only part of the routine she hadn’t quite perfected, the landing. The dirt path leading to various areas of the town drew closer, she squinted her eyes. Somehow she ended up with legs in the air, back to the ground. She righted herself with a nervous smirk. The streets had yet to fill to capacity. A few foals had their harsh chuckle, but otherwise she went unnoticed. She checked on Dinky, let out a sigh of relief. The little unicorn was unharmed.

Lift in her wings, the pegasus started to navigate the town. Grey industrial building speckled the street corners, burly stallions walked stiffly down the sidewalks. Even the dullest buildings had superfluous design features, most where colored oddly bright. She remembered the grocer was right behind one large, intimidating building. It cast a depressing hue over the street it had been charged as sentinel of. She bounded over, light flaps over her wings propelling her to the building’s side. 

Walking down it she noticed the inclusion of discolored bricks and blackened bricks in the wall at irregular patterns. That’s something she liked, patterns. Despite this they still seemed beautiful somehow, maybe more so. There weren’t many ponies around the back part, here. She liked that, not that she likes being alone, but it made this a special place.

A cough behind her made her start. She turned around, only allowed seconds to see the unicorn behind her teleport her and himself in a blinding flash of bright cobalt light. It was dark.

  
  


A formation of rock jutted from the snow-drifts, pale blue and violet in the white-out. Frigid air buffeted it with growing unrest. The snow moved like dunes, piling in quantities inestimable, shifting and flowing like liquid. Everything seemed to have a nuance of blue or simply an assault of white. The skies held no sun, none that could be seen that is. Murky clouds stretched across the grinning horizons. Everything was either tucked away safely or dead. A feeble glow pulsed from a hole in the formation, the only clue a fire was being stoked deep within.

The grey and yellow pegasus was just waking up. The first thing she noticed was the dragon. She didn’t get to see many dragons, not where she lived. This one stood as tall as Sparkler. It breathed into what remained of a fire with the idea to warm the air. The creature had a peculiar color scheme: blue with red spines. The second thing she noticed was the unicorn. His coat was cobalt, his mane black, though it could have been a very dark shade of the first color. A horn rose from his head, much taller and thinner than a normal unicorn’s. His cutie mark was a dagger and scarlet ribbon.

A few muffled noises came from one of Ditzy’s saddlebags. This alarmed both the dragon and his master. For a moment the light left. A few muffled moments later and the dragon resumed his trade of fire and Dinky was smiling at her mother’s side. When the cobalt pony saw this he swore. He exchanged glances of mixed emotion with the dragon. “What have we done?” he inquired, so softly one could scarcely hear it over the den of the fire. Ditzy put a hoof on the stallion’s shoulder, her smile understanding. She didn’t know much about him, but she did know when a fellow needed help and reassurance. However, this seemed only to make it worse for him. Then Dinky had an idea.

It was innocuous at first. She would meander around the cave for a minute, find a rock suitable to her standards, and toss it into the pit the dragon was trying vainly to light. Half an hour later the sizable collection was sitting underneath the dragon’s breath. The dragon and stallion, sometime after the first minutes of Dinky’s escapades, eagerly encouraged her. The rocks slowly absorbed the flare and heat proffered. The dragon was no longer required to send endless fire into the pit. It held its own for some time. Even though it was nice to spend time with Dinky, she never had time now-a-days; Ditzy wondered silently where Sparkler could be. They really needed to be together tonight. She’d had a feeling that this was the night he’d come back. She missed him so much. The stallion was talking to the dragon, not much the other way around. Ditzy didn’t listen; she stared blankly at a patch of floor.

  
  


He was furious. Not just angry, spiteful or malicious. Those were lesser evils. His heart beat in rhythm double. His usual pains were catastrophes of agony. His thoughts where paced tenfold normal. His core body temperature had at least tripled. Steam and fog not only vented from his nostrils and mouth, but also rolled from his body. You might say he couldn’t think straight, but it was clear to him. This was not blind fury, oh he kept his wits, what little he kept about him in any usual circumstance. But, this went far beyond any usual circumstance.

He could tolerate any affliction to himself, that was never the problem, some just don’t constrict themselves to those stringent guidelines. If it could, his blood would certainly be boiling.

The clarity of thought was not helping him. The bluster shot needles into every exposed swatch of his coat, which was torment on his bare hide. His legs were caught in drifts constantly, requiring a few moments of attention to remedy. He was weary of his moments left unused.

  
  


Sparkler stood in the meadow, staring at a dandelion between her hooves. It felt so large and empty. It seemed to have lost its life and mystery. Seeing him had made her glad, but what he said had not. She wanted him to stay, but he didn’t seem normal right then. He had shouted; he never shouted. Something was wrong. She wanted to ask more questions, but he left. He left again. Dinky didn’t even get to see him. Tomorrow passes quickly. 

  
  


It was warm in the cave, once Dinky found the rocks. Ditzy smiled pleasantly as she rocked her child. She sung a queer little tune, one that had no particular rhythm or melody. Neither the stallion nor the dragon smiled. A general air of unpleasant obligations hung around the two. 

“Derpy!” The voice that spoke was surprised, but incredibly authoritative. It was also comprised of soothing compassion. One did not test a pony when he spoke this way. 

Three heads looked up. Ditzy gave a smile of recognition and adoration. The other two were unreadable façades. A brown stallion earth pony was standing at the cave entrance.

“You!” The major thrust of his tone was inquisitive, yet somehow he managed to place in an accusation as well. The dragon charged. Instead of dodging he bucked the creature aside with his head. The creature seemed fatigued. It did not get up. The brown stallion stamped his hooves against the floor of the cave. You could have taken what followed for a tremor. The unicorn, his horn glowing with cobalt aura, took a fighting stance. The stallion produced a fighting stance as well. His was more intimidating. The unicorn didn’t back down. He charged, energy levels forming around his horn, energy overflowing into rivulets of aura.

The stallion remained firm. The unicorn’s horn stopped glowing for a moment, slipped between the stallion’s ribs and through his heart. The stallion’s expression was sheer shock; this wasn’t what he had anticipated at all. A trickle of blood dripped off the unicorn’s horn and onto his nose. The stallion turned to Ditzy and Dinky, his features relaxed into a smile. He blinked once, then seemed unable to support himself anymore. The unicorn tore his horn from the carcass. His head whipped around to face the mother and her filly, blood splattered the walls. Terror gripped Ditzy.

“What am I going to do with you?” The calm he had shown earlier had worn off, madness was around his eyes. Blood stained large portions of his cobalt coat. “Oh, I can think of lots of fun things we can do together.” Dinky tightened her grip on her mother, small tears welling up in her eyes. 

A bloody mass tackled the cobalt pony, throwing him up against the wall. Even the hourglass on his flank was obscured by the carnage.

“Don’t you dare touch my family!” Power, that’s the only way to describe it, raw power and love infused every syllable. His back legs slammed into the chest of the unicorn still impacting the wall. The stallion walked away a few steps before falling to the ground.

He coughed before vomiting blood severely. The unicorn didn’t move much. Ditzy sat down next to the patchy crimson pony. She put her head under his. He looked down at her with steely blue eyes that contrasted eerily with the crimson surrounding them. They were so soft, one gets the impression this was not the man of moments ago.

“I… I don’t need help, Derpy.” The stallion got to his feet with difficulty. He accomplished this only after falling twice. “Is…” Here he had to pause as a spasm of pain clenched all his muscles, he sighed. “Is Dinky okay?” Ditzy nodded her head absentmindedly. The small filly ran up to her father, disregarding the obvious stains on his coat. The stallion broke away from the other two, used his teeth to place Dinky in one of Ditzy’s saddlebags. “You’ve got to listen—” coughing “—you need to get back to Ponyville, now.” Sadness overcame Ditzy, she looked up at the stallion with tear-filled eyes. “I… I promise that I’ll meet you at the cottage, n-no more hiding.” Her expression said she had difficulty believing it. “You’ve g-got to trust me, Derpy. You are all I have.” After he said this he looked down at Dinky strapped in her saddlebag, thought of Sparkler. “Please, I’ven’t seen my daughters in so long, I’m n-never going to run away again, I promise.”

Ditzy nodded thoughtfully to herself. She stepped up to the cave opening, as did the stallion. Ditzy took one last look at the stallion before jumping into the air. It really was frigid. A trail of blood-stained snow came out from the cave opening and charted south-west. Ditzy corkscrewed through a cloud, letting its vapors cling to her for a few moments before thinning off. She dutifully followed the crimson ribbon, dawn warming her wings and heart. 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on a (now defunct) DeviantArt account and FiMFiction on November 12th, 2011. The latter can be found here: http://www.fimfiction.net/story/2683/1/When-Tomorrow-Never-Comes/When-Tomorrow-Never-Comes
> 
> The original inspiration for _When Tomorrow Never Comes _was Season Two, Episode Five: Sisterhooves Social. Wherein, we were, if I recall correctly, introduced to Sparkler. (Or the background character equivalent to an introduction.) Thursday the week after the airing of the episode (November 9) I stayed up all night writing what you see before you, and completed it shortly before dawn.__
> 
> The text has been altered little from its original state (save for the occasional grammatical and spelling correction) for the the reason that by the time I had completed it, I was no where near in my right mind. It was an interesting day, that. Mucking about your day without your sanity is not recommended. I put in this afterword for the purpose of disillusioning anyone from the idea that the plot is in its current— _broken _—state because of mere laziness or lack of skill. It's unaltered because altering it would mean the deconstruction of the creation of another entity (i.e., myself with a mental constitution not fit to write fiction).__
> 
> I do encourage all to post any negative or positive comments/criticisms/contributions, as this is not meant as an excuse per se, but merely an explanation of the situation which gave rise the the existence of the work, and the reader has all my apologies if I have done so poorly.
> 
> (P.S. This site's HTML formatting was a pain in the flank to use/learn. 
> 
> Also, sorry for the minimalistic synopsis. If you have any suggestions for fleshing it out, comment below.)


End file.
